


Lingua Florum

by 8lapetitehirondelle8



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Stephen Fry but only for a moment because I needed a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8lapetitehirondelle8/pseuds/8lapetitehirondelle8
Summary: "I guess a loving woman is indestructible."





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This is new for me, so apologies for any formatting irregularities.  
> 2\. All ideas expressed below are not to be attributed in actuality to any of the persons mentioned.  
> 3\. No ill-will is intended.  
> 3a. If anything, I probably did Clarkson a few favors...

_ Lingua Florum  _

 

“I’m headed out - do any of you need anything?”

Two ‘No, thank you!’s came from the respective offices of James and Richard. No response from Jeremy. She tried again.

“Clarkson! I’m running those files to the lawyers. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

Still no response. She rolled her eyes, stuffed the files into her bag and headed towards the door, still listening for anything from Jeremy. As she turned the door handle, the answer came.

“Lilyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

She knew he did it on purpose. He’d wait until she was halfway out the door and then think of something. She’d learned the pattern over the years and she always expected it, but as much as she was used to it she had to admit it still got on her nerves a bit.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeees?” she replied.

“Can you pick me up some flowers, please?”

Lily allowed herself another eye roll. It was par for the course when you were assigned to cat-herd these three to occasionally be sent on perfectly idiotic errands, but even though they drove her quite mad, she adored them and catered to their every whim - albeit with a certain level of feigned disdain.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked dryly.

“Got a date, haven’t I?”

“And what sort of flowers are you wanting?”

Jeremy came to lean against his office door frame. “Dunno, nice ones.”

“Specificity, Clarkson.”

“Dozen red roses?”

Lily snorted derisively, “Really?”

“And what, exactly, is wrong with a dozen red roses?” Jeremy huffed.

“Oh, nothing at all, if you’re going for unimaginatively cliché.”

She’d ruffled some feathers there. Jeremy shot back, “Well get whatever then, woman, if you’re so worried about it.”

Though she could honestly say this was the first time he’d sent her on this specific errand, she had been with the Top Gear boys almost six years, and in that time Lily had seen every move they’d made. In Jeremy’s case, she’d seen the slow descent into burning wreckage of his marriage, and his subsequent dalliances in the aftermath. She’d seen how it affected his relationships at work, with his children, but most importantly she’d seen how it had affected him - there was still a level of hurt he hid away, trying to avoid it with grandiose displays of ‘I don’t care, I’ve moved on, look at how I’ve moved on’. Having worked as closely as she had with him, with all three of them, Lily could recognize anything out of the ordinary in an instant. It always hurt her the most with Jeremy, though. It destroyed her a little inside every time he flew off on some escapade, because in trying to extinguish his hurt, she knew how much more he just ended up hurting himself. She drew herself up to her full height, though it wasn’t very tall, and answered his remark with a curt,

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You’re going to think about this. We’re going to get something unique, something personal. Tell me about her.”

Jeremy, a bit taken aback, spluttered, “Well… erm…”

“Where did you meet her? What was she wearing? What do you know about her? What does she like? Why was she interesting to you?” She knew she was courting danger here, pushing back like this, but she’d borne the brunt of Clarkson tirades in the past and always come out the other side and she felt it was about time someone brought to his attention that people noticed what he was up to and didn’t necessarily think it was the best thing for him. Eyeing Lily with a certain degree of wariness now, Jeremy made a shaky recovery.

“Pub, low-cut red dress, does marketing or something for John Lewis, said something about a recent holiday in St. Thomas… and she was blonde.”

“Hmm,” Lily said, trying and failing at this point to give him a scathing glare, because the big oaf looked rather flustered, honestly. “I think I can work with that. I’ll be back in a bit - I have my mobile.”

And with that, she left.

“You deserved that, you pillock!” shouted Richard from his office.

“Piss off!” Jeremy shouted back.

 

***

 

Jeremy had been in meetings from the time Lily returned until she’d left for the evening so she’d left the flowers on his desk in a makeshift vase she’d fashioned from a water bottle. She’d chosen the most tropical looking arrangement she could find - bright colours and unusual shapes. When she came in the next morning they were gone, so she knew he’d found them at least. She set about preparing for the day. Richard came in a few minutes later.

“Hiya Lil, alright?”

“Yeah, thanks. Coffee’s coming, okay?”

“You’re the best!”

“I know.”

James and Alison, the sweet little intern in charge of keeping everyone caffeinated, among other things, showed up together. James held the door so Alison could deliver her tray, swiping his tea in the process.

“Bless you, Alison!” he smiled.

“You’re welcome, Mr. May!” Alison put the tray on the desk and collected her morning hug from Lily.

“Thanks, sweets. Have a good day, yeah?”

“You too, Lil!” Alison chirped and scampered off.

Lily smiled. She liked Alison. She was hoping Alison would become hers to groom up as a replacement for Andy’s assistant, Linda, who was due to retire at the end of the year. Linda was far too busy to take on training her replacement, so Lily was the obvious choice of mentor, really. It’d be nice to have the chance to do something a little different. Lily’s train of thought was suddenly derailed by the arrival of an excessively chipper Jeremy Clarkson.

“Lily! My most favorite of the local flora! You are a _genius_ \- those flowers worked a treat! I don’t know how you did it. I kowtow to your superior knowledge of all things horticultural in the pursuit of the fairer sex!”

He planted a dramatic kiss on Lily’s cheek as he waltzed past towards his office.

“Eeeugh! Sod off, Clarkson!” she grumbled, and just as dramatically wiped her face off with her sleeve.

She watched him close his office door and felt her face fall. As she turned her attention to the pile of expense reports on her desk, she sighed and shook her head. Clearly her outburst yesterday hadn’t had the effect she’d intended - there was no making a Clarkson think if he didn’t want to think. She hoped he’d at least get his own damned flowers in the future, though as pleased as he’d been when he came in, she was pretty sure she’d be on the hook for all future floral purchases. _Why do you want so badly to keep him from hanging himself anyway, you stupid girl?_ she scolded herself inwardly. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, counted to three, breathed out, and got on with her work. Unbeknownst to her, the whole exchange had been closely monitored by James and Richard from just beyond the doorway of Richard’s office. They exchanged a look, storing this development away for later.

 

***

 

It happened again two weeks later.

“Lily! I need flowers!”

“Same again?”

“Erm… no… different lady.”

“Ah. Details, then, please.”

“A vision in green, this one. Does something… horsey? A bit shy.”

“I’ll have something here before you go.”

“You’re a treasure, Lil!”

“I know.”

It had been a trick finding foxgloves, but she’d found them nonetheless, and received the same accolades and lavish praise as she had the time before. The fact that after Jeremy closeted himself in for a conference call Lily let her face sink into her hands for a moment was not lost on James and Richard. They saw this pattern repeat itself every few weeks; Jeremy would find someone new, Lily would know just what to buy to make him look good, he would praise her to the high heavens, and she would have a moment as soon as she thought no one was looking. James and Richard always made a point to be extra nice to her on those days. Lily had always been intensely invested in learning everything about the three of them that she could to make their lives easier, and she’d always paid special attention to Jeremy. She’d come into their employ just as things were starting to go south with his marriage, and at that time they’d watched with quiet astonishment how she had managed to keep him as much together as possible while bringing as little attention to her actions as she could. Once things had settled down on the Clarkson front and the four of them had established a comfortable routine, Richard and James hadn’t given much more thought to Lily’s attentions to Jeremy until now, several years down the line. Something about Jeremy’s carryings-on was wearing on Lily. They knew to tread carefully, but maintained a close eye on the whole thing, for her sake.

 

***

 

The fifth time it happened was the first time anyone saw the veneer properly crack.

“Lilyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

“Clarksooooooooooooon!”

“You’ll have fun with this one.”

“Try me.”

“This one actually looks like Kristin Scott Thomas!”

Lily thought for a moment. “‘The English Patient’ Kristin Scott Thomas, or ‘Love Crime’ Kristin Scott Thomas?” she asked.

“Both!” Jeremy squealed in delight.

“Are you sure she isn’t, in fact, THE Kristin Scott Thomas?” Lily teased.

“Alas, no. But still, close enough, eh?” Jeremy grinned and cocked an eyebrow.

“I know just what you need.”

“I knew you would, Lil.”

Jeremy, in typical fashion, was out when Lily returned. She set up the stargazers in his office and decided that she’d better pick out the anthers as she didn’t fancy an extra run to the shops when Jeremy inevitably got pollen all over his shirt. _You really should have it out with him about this,_ she thought to herself, _if he’d just learn what to look for, he could get them himself and save you the heartache._ She stopped cold. _Heartache? What the hell is wrong with you. Where did that even come from? Shit._ She’d dropped the penny on herself. It probably wasn’t all just a natural inclination to be as helpful as possible. It was probably a lot more than that, and if she didn’t clamp it down RIGHT NOW it was going to give itself a name, and she didn’t want to know what that was. _SHIT! Now you’re crying about it! Get yourself together, girl!_ At this point, Richard wandered in looking for Jeremy.

“Oh. He’s out, then?”

“Yeah.” said Lily, trying her best to hide her face behind the flowers.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she said again, “it’s not fair, really, I’m named for the bloody things but they give me hay fever like you wouldn’t believe!” She hoped it was a convincing fib. If Richard didn’t believe her, he didn’t let on.

“If they give you hay fever like that, why are you messing about with the pollen-y bits?” he asked.

“Because if I don’t take them out now, Clarkson will get covered in the stuff five minutes before he has to leave and then it’ll be a fire drill. You know what he’s like.” They shared a laugh at Jeremy’s expense.

“You’re too good to him, you know.” Richard said quietly.

“Am not.”

“You are. You’re too good to all of us, but you’re much too good to him. He shouldn’t be making you do this.” Richard reached for Lily’s shoulder, but she moved slightly, just enough to be beyond his reach.

“Well, it’s done now, anyway.” she said, forcing a smile. “I have some things for you to sign.”

Richard followed her back to her desk, wondering when and how the dam would break.

 

***

 

The following morning found Lily in the office before everyone, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was that she hadn’t been home. There hadn’t been time. She looked terrible and she knew it. She was still in yesterday’s clothes, her eyes were puffy, and she could feel the fuzz on her teeth. James and Richard found her staring blankly at her monitor.

“Bloody hell! Lily, are you okay?” James’ surprise startled Lily back into the moment. She looked at the two of them for a second, and then her eyes settled on Richard as she choked out,

“You were right. I _am_ much too good to him. You will not believe-” but her explanation was cut short by Jeremy arriving, grinning from ear to ear, obviously very pleased with the world and everything in it.

“ _Have you even turned your phone on since last night?_!” Lily screamed at him.

Jeremy stopped in his tracks, grin disappearing as he reached automatically for his phone in his pocket. James and Richard looked from Lily to Jeremy and back to Lily again in complete confusion. She grabbed her bag.

“I can’t. I just can’t. I have to go.”

James put an arm out as she ran towards the door, just to stop her, to keep her there long enough to figure out just what the issue was, but she saw him reach for her and dodged underneath his arm and out the door. Richard, in the meantime, had turned his fire on Jeremy.

“What the _fuck_ have you done, Clarkson?”

Jeremy was staring wide-eyed at his phone by this point. He scrolled a ways down something, then pushed another part of the screen and held the phone up to his ear. James and Richard watched his face fall further and further into a look of sheer horror, his free hand coming up to cover his mouth, then his eyes. He sat down in Lily’s vacant chair, switched apps, and wordlessly handed the phone to Richard. James read over his shoulder. It was a string of texts from Emily, Jeremy’s oldest daughter.

 

 

> 8:06   Dad I’m off to that party at Greg’s. Love you. XXXX
> 
> 8:42   Got here safe. Ange is here! Nice to see her. Will tell her you say hi. XXXX
> 
> 9:58   Dad, text me back, something happened.
> 
> 10:02 Dad, please. Where are you? I tried calling.
> 
> 10:06 Dad, can you you come get me please?
> 
> 10:08 Where are you? Why aren’t you answering?
> 
> 10:15 Called Lily. She’s coming to get me. Where are you?
> 
> 10:42 Lily’s taking me home. Please call me Daddy, please.

 

“Shit.” said James.

“What happened?” Richard asked Jeremy.

“Listen to the voicemail.”

Richard switched over to voicemail and hit the speaker button. Emily’s voice came through.

 

 

> “ _Daddy, it’s Em. Look, Lily’s got me, she’s taking me home. Dad, a boy at the party put something in my drink. I saw him do it, but he didn’t know I saw. I was pretending to drink it while I tried to get through to you - he was watching me, Daddy, I was scared - I couldn’t get you but I got Lily and she’s got me - I didn’t think I could get out of there on my own - she said you had a terrible headache before you left today so maybe you turned your phone off so you could sleep - it’s OK, she’s got me now - I asked her to stay with me tonight - I’m too shook up to be alone. I love you, Daddy, call me when you get this._ ”

 

The three of them were silent for a moment, caught up in the panic in Emily’s voice. James was the first to recover.

“Clarkson, call your daughter. Now.”

Wordlessly, Jeremy took his phone from Richard’s outstretched hand, went into his office, and closed the door. When James turned to Richard, he found the younger man violently shaking his head, his eyes closed.

“Rich.” James said softly. Richard looked up. “Go call your girls, too.”

“I could kill him, I really could.” Richard muttered as he started to walk towards his office to make his call, but suddenly he turned back around. “What about Lily?”

“Let me take care of her.”

 

***

 

James had had to bring Andy into the loop in order to locate Lily. He was about to leave to go to her flat to make sure she was alright when he realized that all he knew about Lily’s living situation was that she had a flat, and it was somewhere in Islington. Andy had gotten her address for him, and promised to keep him up to date on anything that happened while he was out.

“Also,” he said, as James was leaving his office, “don’t be surprised if by the time you come back I’ve murdered Clarkson.” Not a surprising threat, Emily was Andy’s god-daughter.

“If Hammond doesn’t beat you to it.” said James.

When he got to his car, he thought he should call ahead. He dialed, but it went to Lily’s voicemail. He’d rather expected that.

“Lily, it’s James. Look, I’m coming round, okay? Just to make sure you’re alright. I’ll be there soon.”

He set off, hitting a decent amount of traffic through the city centre, which gave him some time to think. He searched his memory for everything he knew about Lily. There was the flat in Islington, where he was headed. She had a gunmetal gray Golf GTI which she usually only drove out to Dunsfold - though he rather thought she’d have driven in this morning if she’d been with Emily the night before. He thought some more. She held both her degrees from one of the U. of L. schools… Royal Holloway, that was it - he remembered because Richard had once teased her about the main building on the campus looking like Hogwarts and therefore clearly she was a witch and could she please magic him up a packet of crisps. How long ago had that been? Five years? No, six. Six years ago. Right after she’d started.

Six years, that was a lot of wrap parties and Christmas do’s. She’d always come along to those, but he couldn’t ever remember her having brought a date or staying much longer than a couple of hours. The handful of times they’d gotten her to come to the pub with them - just them, not the big group, those occasions had been much like the wrap parties where she’d slip away after an hour - she’d always bought the first round and left as soon as she’d finished her drink. He kept thinking. No pets he could remember her mentioning. Not even family, really. No, wait, that wasn’t exactly accurate. He remembered something about a brother who’d emigrated to Australia, who was quite a bit older than she was, and they had never been terribly close as a result of the age gap. Well, that was something. She always had a book in her bag. She wouldn’t write with anything other than a retractable biro, and she would stab you with said biro if you reached for the last jam cream. She rarely traveled with them for filming, her primary job being to ‘hold down the fort’ so to speak, but when she did, she seemed perfectly at home on the road. She invested herself wholly into her work, and James realized that the last six years while he’d been giving her all the answers about him, he’d never really asked about her. She had rarely volunteered personal information, and he’d always just assumed that she was a private sort of person and hadn’t pushed. He found himself wishing he’d been more inquisitive, because now he didn’t even know what he could possibly stop off and get to take with him, since arriving empty-handed seemed inappropriate somehow, that would be likely to cheer her up. He was suddenly rather ashamed of himself. This woman had been working for them - for _him_ \- for _six years_ , and this was all he knew about her?

He turned onto the A1 and headed up into Islington. He found the address with some difficulty. It turned out that Lily’s flat was above a shop. He found an aubergine door with ‘217’ on it and the button for a doorbell next to it. He rang and waited. He heard Lily’s voice come through the little speaker above the button.

“James?”

He pushed another button next to the speaker that he assumed must be for the intercom.

“Yes, Lily, it’s me.”

There was no answer, but soon enough he heard footsteps come down some stairs and the door opened a fraction.

“Lily?”

“I’m fine, James, really, I just… I need a day, okay?”

“Lily, please, can I come in? Will you tell me what happened?”

He heard Lily sigh, and she opened the door the rest of the way. Her eyes were redder and puffier than earlier, and now he could see the dark circles underneath. It was clear she hadn’t slept the night before. She turned wordlessly and he followed her, closing the door behind them and ascending the stairs. When he entered the flat he noticed Lily’s shoes by the hall tree and slipped his off as well. He followed her a bit further around the corner to the left and into the main living area.

The flat was a decent size and very clean, with blond wood floors and a three-sided quartz work-and-bar top in the kitchen. The kitchen, living and dining areas were all connected, and there were windows at one end overlooking the street. James remembered seeing a small table and chairs outside above the shop front, they must be hers. He stood at the end of the small hall taking everything in. Kitchen to his left with the dining area beyond, sitting area to his right with an L-shaped sofa, and a desk next to the windows at the far end. Everything was white and gray with little knickknacks on the shelves and pictures on the walls providing bits of colour. While he didn’t know what he’d been expecting, he realized that this was exactly what he thought Lily would do with a space. His reverie was interrupted by the flick of the switch on the kettle. Lily was making tea, having pulled down two mugs - he noticed they were from different places. One read ‘The National Theatre’, and the other had the Royal Holloway crest on it. He felt the shame return a little with that, her alma mater being one of the few things he knew about her. Everything was silent while the kettle boiled. Lily was leaning against the worktop, and James had sat on one of the stools on the sitting area side of the bar top. Eventually a mug was placed in front of him.

“Thanks, Lil."

She was resting against the opposite side of the bar top from him now, holding her mug in both hands, looking determinedly at its contents. James took a quick drink from his mug, the National Theatre one, he noticed, and decided he’d better start talking or else he’d wasted a trip.

“Lily, what happened last night?” he asked gently.

Lily took a sip and began, “I started getting texts from Em around ten. She always goes to me if she can’t find Jez. I usually know where he is. They all call me, really. Francie, Em, Fin, Kat - even Mindy when she can’t raise Hammond. Sarah’s reached out a couple of times when she couldn’t find you.” Lily stopped and took another sip, trying to control her shaking hands. James noticed, but let her continue. “Anyway, Em was texting, getting more and more panicky because she couldn't get her dad. Naturally, I knew exactly where he was and why she wasn’t getting through, but it doesn’t do to tell someone’s daughter something like that. I told her if she needed me I’d come get her - she’s not a panicker by nature, I knew something was really wrong. She finally gave up trying to get Jez and called me, said can you please come get me, so I did. Once I got there and found her, she told me what was going on. I got her out of there as fast as I could.”

Lily’s hands were shaking more violently now, and her voice had started to follow. “There was no way in hell I was going to let that happen to her, not on my watch, not _EVER_ . He should have been there, but he wasn’t, and I wasn’t about to strand her like that. God, I could _kill_ him. Both of them, actually, the cunt who spiked her drink and her worthless father!” Lily had abandoned her mug at this point and was pacing the kitchen, shaking. “No one should have to go through that. Not her, not her sister, not her _brother_ , God knows girls can be just as horrible, and if Clarkson can’t be fucking bothered to save his own kids then someone has to!”

“Lily,” James said, standing up and coming around the end of the bar top to where she was pacing, “Lily, breathe.” He caught her by the shoulders and held on, firmly but gently. “Come on, Lil, breathe. Calm down, there’s a girl.”

When he looked into her eyes, it was as though she wasn’t there at all. She blankly fought his grip but he held fast, speaking calmly to her. They stayed like that for indefinite minutes, James valiantly trying to call her back from the recesses of her mind, out of the blind panic. Lily’s body moved erratically, at first trying to find a way out of his grip, then eventually settling into a steady pressure against his hands, pushing forward. Finally he saw her come back into herself from wherever she had been, the vacant look in her eyes abruptly disappearing, replaced with pain, but at least James knew she was at the turning point. It took a few minutes to get her breathing back to something resembling normal, and once she was calmer, Lily realized that James still had a hold of her shoulders. She quickly took a step back and said,

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine now, thanks.”

James didn’t exactly believe her, but he was satisfied that the worst of it was over so he didn’t push. He waited a minute to let her settle, leaning on the worktop, just being near in case she lost herself again.

“Did you stay with Emily last night?” he asked, eventually.

“‘Course I did. She asked me to. I couldn't leave her, not like that. University accommodations don’t exactly lend themselves to overnight guests, though, so I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t anyway. I was too worried she’d have night terrors or something.”

“I’m glad. I’m glad you went to get her. I’m glad you stayed with her. I’m glad you took the time for her. You didn’t have to. Most people wouldn’t have bothered. You did a good thing, Lily.” He watched her shake her head.

“I did what anyone would do.” she said. “She’s a good girl, she was stuck in a bad situation, and she was smart enough to take the help that was offered to her.”

“Look,” James said, watching Lily sink, exhausted, into the corner of the worktop, “you get a few hours kip, eh? I’ll be back later with Richard and dinner.” He could see her starting to protest, but he didn’t let her. “No, Lily, you’ve had a rough night, and I know the idea of a miserable old git and an infuriating little pikey coming round and invading your space probably isn’t exactly how you’d like to be cheered up, but it’s the best I can manage, okay? I’m not taking no for an answer. We’ll just annoy you until the smiles come back.”

Lily looked at him for a long minute and finally said, “Okay.”

“Okay.” James drained his mug and stood up. “I’d better get back and see what sort of carnage has ensued in my absence. Wilman _and_ Hammond were threatening a Clarkson murder when I left.”

This got a faint smile from Lily, at least. James headed towards the door and slipped into his shoes.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Lily nodded in response. Halfway down the stairs, James heard her call his name softly and he turned.

“Thanks.” was all she said.

He nodded and left.

 

***

 

The office was quieter than James expected when he got back. He stuck his head into Richard’s office.

“Did he go to Emily’s, then?”

“He did.” Richard answered. “How’s Lily?”

“Getting some sleep, hopefully.” James recounted his visit with Lily, sparing no detail. Richard’s eyes had clouded over by the time James was done.

“I’m glad you thought of dinner. I’d have gone with you if…” he trailed off.

“It’s alright, Hammond. If I had them, I’d have been calling mine, too.”

“They were a bit confused as to why Daddy just needed to call out of the blue and tell them he loved them, but Mindy got it.”

“I knew she would.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Eventually James said, “I’ve never seen her like that. Angry, sure. Furious a couple of times, even. Happy, plenty. Taking the piss, constantly. But I’ve never seen her so… I don’t want to say ‘broken’, but that’s the best I can come up with.”

“As long as she’s been around, the first time I’ve ever seen a tear in her eye was yesterday.” Richard said.

James let out a surprised “What?”

Richard explained, “She was pulling the pollen-y bits out of the lilies she’d got for Clarkson’s… lady friend. She said something about hay fever, but I think it was anything but.”

“Anthers.”

It was Richard’s turn to be puzzled. “What?”

“The ‘pollen-y bits’, as you so eloquently put it, on the lilies. They’re called anthers.”

“Really, James? A biology lesson at a time like this?”

“Sorry.” James fiddled with the zip on his jacket for a minute. “Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“I did have a thought on the way back from Lily’s.”

“What was that?”

“I sort of wonder, I mean, with a reaction as strong as that, to a situation like that… maybe, at one point... it happened to her?”

Richard swallowed. “James, I really wish that didn’t make as much sense as it does.”

 

***

 

The text tone on her phone woke her up. She looked at the screen - James.

 

 

> 5:04   Be to yours in about an hour.

 

Lily shot back a quick ‘OK’ and rolled out of bed. She’d slept like the dead for about six hours and felt a little better for it. She was grateful they’d texted ahead, she’d have time for a shower at least. She started the water and looked at herself in the mirror while it warmed up. She looked like a raccoon, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped. Stepping into the shower, she let the warm water envelop her. If she was honest with herself, she was glad James had been so adamant that he and Richard come by this evening. She didn’t really want to be alone. It wasn’t as though she led a completely lonely existence - she had a few close friends near enough whom she saw as regularly as possible, and she spent several evenings a week at her local which was literally across the street. She was quite good friends with the couple who owned it, in fact. Even Alison came over sometimes for a drink and some gossip. But somehow tonight it just made the most sense to be with the people closest to the whole situation. She shut the water off and got busy getting ready.

She was putting the mugs from the morning away when the bell rang. Rather than bothering to check since she knew they were coming, she just trotted downstairs and opened the door. She looked askance at the Tesco’s bags James was carrying.

“Mr. Picky fancied a pasta, so we’re going to have to commandeer your kitchen.”

Richard huffed, “Oh, right, blame me! It’s not _my_ fault you didn’t bother to ask her what she wanted for dinner! Hello, darling.” Before Lily knew what was happening, Richard leaned in, kissed her cheek, and started up the stairs.

“Please excuse my incorrigible colleague,” groused James playfully, “he’s a bit of a knob.”

Lily shook her head and smiled. They all got upstairs and James started to rifle through the cupboards. Richard went in search of a corkscrew. Lily just sort of stood there, watching two of the men she essentially babysat on a daily basis wreaking havoc in her kitchen. Apart from James for an hour that morning, they’d never been in it before, but there they were, and it felt nice. She stored the feeling away for later and sat down on a bar stool to watch the show.

Richard held up two bottles. “Red or white?”

“White, please.” responded Lily.

Richard elbowed James. “Told you.”

“Alright, you win.” smiled James.

“What does he win?” asked Lily as she was presented with her glass. Taking a sip, she watched James and Richard exchange a sheepish look.

“Lil,” James began, “we realized something today. You’ve been with us for rather a long time, but…” James trailed off, and Richard picked up the thought.

“But we know fuck all about you, really.”

Lily laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “You spanners, you never asked!” The looks she received in return made her laugh even harder.

“Are you kidding me right now?” squeaked Richard.

“Nope.” Lily said, “I figured if you’d wanted to know, you’d have asked. But you didn’t, so I didn’t volunteer.”

James, incredulously pointing a spoon in Lily’s direction, said “Are you saying that for the last six years, while we were thinking that you might damage our persons quite badly, you _wouldn’t_ have subjected us to grievous bodily harm for asking you things?”

“Pretty much. It’s not as though I’m over here hoarding secrets.” She took a drink. “And for the record, I only punched Jeremy _once_ , in the _arm_ , and you know full well he deserved it!”

“Fuck’s sake!” shouted Richard. “That’s it, I’m making up for lost time, starting now! What’s your favorite colour?”

James let loose a seal’s bark of a laugh and Lily nearly choked on her wine.

 

***

 

 _Thank God for track days!_ wasn’t something Lily thought would ever cross her mind, but it had about six times already that morning and it was only half ten. The beauty of filming out at Dunsfold was that she was constantly on the move from the time she got there until the moment they left, which was very convenient at the moment. She had no idea if James and Richard had spoken to Jeremy after they’d left her flat the week before, and honestly she wasn’t that keen to find out. As long as she kept on the run she could avoid pretty much everyone, and that was fine with her. It wasn’t that she was avoiding James and Richard - not at all. They’d had a lovely, talkative evening. They were both naturally curious and six years worth of questions had tumbled out like water once they got going. No, she wasn’t avoiding them. The sad side effect of avoiding Jeremy, though, was having to avoid them. She wasn’t ready to deal with him.

The trickiest bit was going to be lunch, but only if she didn’t make it into the portakabin before they did. She peeked around the door - no one. Lunch successfully delivered, she made an attempt at a mad dash but bumped smack into the three of them on her way out. They were arguing about lap times and the level of wet on the track. Nearest to her was Richard, who, without even breaking his tirade to do it, pulled her in with one arm, hugged her, and rolled her out towards James with the other arm, still shouting at the other two. Safely deposited to his left, she shared a wink and a hand squeeze with James and scurried off. She’d almost made it around the corner of the building before the Clarkson bellow stopped her.

“Lily, hang on!”

She thought as quickly as she could, and shouted back, “I’ve got to go help Iain sort out some cables, I’ll see you later!”

Jeremy watched her disappear around the corner and turned back to his co-presenters, a joke about ‘the service in this establishment’ dying on his lips as he was met with a pair of death glares.

James growled, “Get inside, Clarkson.”

Richard shut the door behind them as Jeremy flopped onto the well-worn sofa, looking at them again and saying, “Has anyone else noticed that the portakabin has taken on a decidedly woodshed-y quality today?”

“If it has, it’s because you’ve made it necessary, Clarkson.” Richard, this time. He and James had agreed to have it out with Jeremy in person about this whole mess, and they’d found their opportunity.

“Look,” said Jeremy, drawing a hand down his face, “before you two start in on me, I was trying to talk to her just now. She scarpered.”

James let loose a hollow laugh. “Oldest trick in the book, Clarkson. Avoidance. She’s going to do it until she thinks she can slip back into normalcy without you bringing anything up.”

“Oh, really. And what makes you an authority on the subject?”

“Because it’s a tactic I frequently employ myself, isn’t it?” James said gruffly.

Richard snarled. “Also because we’ve spent the time and asked the questions, Clarkson. While I’m sure we’ve only discovered the tip of the iceberg, a few things have fallen into place. You can tell a lot about a person by how they fill the space around their answers.”

“Combine that with six years of watching her work, and we’ve got a decent handle on how she’s going to process all this.” said James.

Jeremy was still looking at them a bit blankly, so Richard took it upon himself to break it down for him.

“She just rescued your daughter from something which, as a father, I don’t ever, _ever_ want to _think_ about having happen to one of my girls. She did something you should have done, and she managed it without dropping you into the shit. She will refuse to take credit for any of this, and will let you get away without a word about it, which is far more than you deserve.”

James piped up, “We’ve let this sort of thing go in the past, Clarkson, because we just sort of assumed that she was more or less okay. And generally, it turns out, she was. But this one is different. This one touched a nerve with her. A deep one. Don’t let her bottle this one up, Clarkson, or so help me, I’ll have your head.”

“That makes two of us.” said Richard.

Jeremy was a bit staggered by this and automatically went on the defensive. “And just how do you expect me to do anything about it if she’s going to run off every time I try to talk to her?”

“Figure it out, Clarkson,” said James darkly, “how hard can it be?”

 

***

 

By the end of the week, angry as they had been, both James and Richard had to concede that Jeremy had honestly tried - multiple times - to talk to Lily, but she’d managed to outfox him at every turn. As they were finally leaving on Friday evening, watching Lily’s GTI pull away, Jeremy shook his head and said, “You’re going to have to give me until after Belgium. I tried, I really did.”

Wordlessly, James held out a small piece of paper. Jeremy took it.

“What’s this then?”

“Her address.” answered James. “She’ll probably murder me for giving it to you, but I hate seeing her like this. Go round and patch it up, Clarkson.”

“How did you even get this? Did she give it to you?”

“Wilman did. I went to check on her the morning everything exploded.” said James.

Jeremy nodded, “I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Promise?” asked Richard.

“Promise.” said Jeremy

 

***

 

Saturday dawned early and unseasonably warm. Jeremy’s insomnia had been in full swing since the wee hours and he was anxious to make his visit, but he knew he had to wait until a more socially acceptable hour. He tried to fill the time by writing, and when that failed, awful television. At about seven, he gave up and called James.

“Clarkson?”

“May.”

“No rest for the wicked, eh?” James was also a slave to insomnia, and the two had occasionally been known to have conversations at two in the morning when neither of them could drop off.

“Sadly not.” responded Jeremy.

“What’s on your mind, Clarkson?”

Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose and thought _What isn’t?_ before responding, “How was Lily… that day? When you went over?”

He could hear James choosing his words on the other end. “Not good.” he said, finally.

“Could you be a little more specific?”

“Honestly Jez, I could, but it feels like it would be a betrayal of trust.”

“That bad, eh?” Jeremy flicked the switch on the kettle for the umpteenth time that morning, a furrow forming on his brow.

“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. That’s my advice.”

“‘The worst’ isn’t likely to include a carving knife and my gentleman’s area, by chance, is it?”

James chuckled. “I think if she were going to do something as drastic as that, she’d have done it already. Cut the brake lines on one of the cars you were scheduled for at Dunsfold, or put razor blades in your ham sandwich or something.”

Jeremy smiled slightly, pouring boiling water into his mug. “Really though, May, what am I up against here?”

“I wouldn’t say you’re ‘up against’ anything. Just… you can’t fix this one with a hammer, alright?”

“I’d gathered that.” They were quiet for a minute, until Jeremy said, “How do I always manage to cock everything up?”

James laughed, “I’ve stopped wondering that at this point, Clarkson.” He could tell Jeremy was smiling, too. “Just go talk to her. She’ll forgive you because that’s just how she is. She might put you through the wringer first, but she’ll forgive you.”

“May?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

They rang off, and Jeremy thought he might maybe even be able to sleep for a while.

 

***

 

He hadn’t surfaced again until ten, which made it closer to half eleven by the time he’d eaten, showered, shaved, and driven up to Islington. It was a gorgeous day, and the heat of the morning had carried on getting hotter. It seemed as though the entire world had decided to go outside to soak up the sunshine. He was lucky enough to snag a parking spot on Lily’s street, pulling in after a family packed themselves up and pulled away. He’d looked up the address ahead of time and knew he’d find the flat directly across from a pub. He could see the pub sign, so he headed in that direction. As he got closer, he saw a figure sitting at a bistro set perched precariously on top of a shop front. He stopped for a moment, letting the image register.

It was Lily, there was no mistaking that, but it was a Lily he’d never seen before. She was faced the direction he was coming from, eyes hidden behind Jackie O. sunglasses, dark umber curls framing her face, a few of the wilder ones blowing softly in the breeze. She was reading, book in her lap, bare feet up on the second chair. The simple seersucker sundress she was wearing completed the look, and it struck Jeremy as something straight out of an old Hollywood film. He was glad she hadn’t looked up because he knew he was gawking, and he hated himself for it. A bit. He’d always thought Lily was an attractive girl but he’d never given it much thought as he was giving it now, and now wasn’t the best time to be thinking it. He shook his head and started walking again. As he approached the side of the shop front, at an angle where he could still see her, he said,

“I don’t remember ever seeing you fly, so you must have got out through the window.”

She started a bit at his voice. Putting her book on the table, she pushed the Jackie O.’s up on top of her head.

“Clarkson?” Her voice registered surprise and belied some nervousness.

“As ever was.” he said.

She looked at him for a moment and then said, “I’ll come down.”

She grabbed her book and disappeared into the building. A few minutes later she reappeared at the aubergine door.

“To what do I owe the honor?” she asked in an attempt at playfulness.

Jeremy thought through the options for a response and decided to go with straight honesty. “Because I’ve been a bastard. Can I come in, please, Lil?”

She gave him a long look. He could feel her eyes boring into his soul. He’d never realized how blue they were before. She must have found what she was looking for in his face, because she stepped aside enough for him to pass the door.

He followed her up the stairs, the door closing behind them. It was cool in the hallway, much more so than outside. Almost chilly, in fact, but Jeremy wasn’t sure if Lily was hugging herself against the air or his presence. He rather thought it must be the latter, and he sighed slightly. Reaching the second door at the top of the stairs, he entered the flat behind her. Even though the curtains were mostly drawn against the heat of the day, just a panel of sheers over the window Lily must use to get out onto her makeshift terrace, he was surprised by how bright her flat was. As James had the week before, Jeremy stood and took in his surroundings, relishing the… Lilyness of it all. It even smelled like her, vaguely of lemons and something familiarly floral he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He heard the clink of ice hitting glasses and looked towards the kitchen. Lily waved a bottle of Perrier in his direction, cocking an eyebrow.

“Please.” he said. He sat at one of the bar stools and watched her pour out two glasses, silently thinking how lucky the bubbles were, to be set free of their green bottle prison and jump to dizzying heights, with nothing to land on but the soft skin of a pale wrist. A glass found its way in front of him. They sipped in silence for a minute, nothing but the sound of the effervescence in the water to be heard.

Focussing determinedly on the countertop Lily said, “I was so angry with you. I still am.”

“You should be, Lily. I-”

She cut him off. “No, Clarkson, let me finish.” Her quiet fierceness was fairly intimidating, even to Jeremy. He raised his hands in a silent gesture of surrender. Lily felt the movement more than saw it. She knew that if she looked at him she’d likely melt, and she couldn’t afford to do that. Not now. Not until she’d got through what she needed to say.

“She’s your daughter, Clarkson. _Your daughter_. She’s at a point in her life where she needs you more than she knows, but that night she knew. She needed you. There was no good reason for you not to be there. I had to make one up for you. And it’s not the first time I’ve done it.”

Jeremy wasn’t exactly surprised at this, he knew Lily had somehow managed to smooth things over with multiple people in the past as far as he was concerned - his ex-wife, people in the office. He knew full well that he was a walking PR nightmare sometimes. As was typical for him this was the first time he’d really given any thought to just how much unseen damage control Lily had taken on on his behalf over the years. He heard her start again.

“I’m not doing it any more, Clarkson. I’m not lying for you, not to your kids. They deserve better. They deserve _you_ , not some paid lackey ironing out their frowns and gatekeeping their dad. You know I would do anything for them - and I will again if you ever fuck it up like this again, but so help me, I _will not_ forgive you again. Do you understand me, Clarkson? You’re getting a second chance, which you really don’t deserve, but if you ever, _EVER_ find me picking up your pieces in a situation like this again…” Lily couldn’t finish the sentence, she didn’t know how to. Luckily for her, her tone and body language were sending the message loud and clear. Jeremy was holding his head at this point, she could see it out of the corner of her eye. She hated herself for this, but he needed to hear it. _Best to get it over with_ , she thought, and lined up her final coffin nail.

“And I’m not buying any more fucking flowers for your fucking benefit.”

Jeremy snorted at that, and shook his head. When he looked up, Lily had moved and was leaning against the worktop at the other side of the kitchen. She was watching him warily, almost sadly. He could tell she’d said her piece and was waiting for the fallout. They stayed like that for a minute, eyes locked. Finally, he said,

“You’re right.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath, letting it out slowly. “Thank you.” she said, smiling now, a real smile. “Now let’s just pretend this never happened and move on.”

“Don’t you think you’re letting me off a bit too easily there, Lil?”

“I’d just like my world to return to normal as quickly as possible, if that’s okay with you, This whole situation has brought up some past unpleasantness that I’d rather bury back where it was.” That last bit slipped out before she realized it. _Shit_. She looked at her hands. Maybe he hadn’t heard.

Except he had. In truth, he wasn’t exactly unprepared for this revelation. It was something Emily had said when he’d gotten to her after Lily had been with her the night before.

 

 

> _He’d gotten his arms around her and refused to let go. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I should have been there.”_
> 
> _“It’s okay, Dad, you weren’t feeling well.”_
> 
> _He’d felt terrible then, but spared his daughter the truth, instead going along with Lily’s cover for him._
> 
> _Emily continued, “Anyway, short of you or Mum, it turns out Lily was the best person to have been there.”_
> 
> _“Why’s that, my love?”_
> 
> _“Even though he didn’t- it didn’t- nothing actually happened, she still took it seriously. Scary seriously. She didn’t baby me, but she knew just what to say and how to say it. She let me be sad and angry and whatever, and just kept telling me it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t a reflection on me. She just knew. She knew because-” Emily stopped herself there. “She just knew.”_
> 
> _“What do you mean, ‘she just knew’, sweetheart?”_
> 
> _Emily had given him that look then, the one that meant ‘I have a secret, but it’s not the kind I’ll tell you’, and said, “She just did.”_

 

So no, he wasn’t exactly unprepared to have the puzzle completed for him. What he _was_ unprepared for was his reaction. The sudden urge in the pit of his stomach to pick Lily up, take her back to the bedroom and prove to her that there were still good men in this world - multiple times, if he had any say about it. It surprised him, and he clamped it down as quickly as possible, knowing full well that it was the worst possible idea, at least for the moment. Right now, better to employ a different tactic altogether.

“Tell me.” he said gently.

“It’s not important.” Lily said quickly.

“No, it is, Lily. It must be. If it was important enough to you to lose a night of sleep over to keep my Emily safe, then I’d say it’s pretty damned important.”

If he kept up with this softness, this… this _care_ , she was going to come unhinged, she knew it. But she also knew that if she tried to fob him off at this point, wheedle out of explaining, he’d just sit there stubbornly until she did.

“Happened to me, didn’t it?” she said dryly, hoping it would stem the tide of questions.

“Tell me.” he said again, just as gently. She couldn’t help it. She caved.

“It happened just before the ‘keep a close eye on your drink’ phenomenon became mainstream and started to be plastered all over university noticeboards as a matter of course. I wasn’t as lucky or as smart as Emily. I became a statistic. By the time I realized something was wrong it was too late. I watched the whole thing happen from here,” she made a wavy motion behind and just above her head, “and when he was finished, he backhanded me so hard he split my lip open and he said ‘If this ever gets out, if you ever tell a living soul, I will end you’. That sort of threat works wonders when you’re eighteen and you’re completely alone in the world because your parents moved to Australia to be closer to your brother and his new baby the instant you started university.” Lily took a breath. “Still, it’s not like any of it matters now. The bastard was with one of our first units on the ground in Afghanistan. Came home in a box.”

She took a sip of her Perrier, watching Jeremy’s reaction. He was incredibly still, looking at her half in horror and half with something she didn’t recognize, but it was almost comforting. When he didn’t say anything, she said,

“Look, I’m not going to go to pieces. Poor James dealt with that the other week.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… panicked. He was very good about it, honestly, I didn’t expect it.” Jeremy’s look had shifted to the unidentifiable sort of comforting one, so Lily added, “I spared him the hysteria, bless him. I don’t think he could have coped with the two solid hours of me sobbing into the pillows that happened after he left.”

Jeremy was still looking at her, she could tell he was unsure about how to process all of this.

“Honestly, Jez, I’m fine. I’m fine, Emily’s fine, we can all move on.” She nearly laid a hand on his forearm at this point, but stopped herself just in time and laid her hand down next to it instead, within a centimetre.

“Lily?”

“Yes?”

“I’d quite like to hug you now.” It felt strange leaving his lips. With anyone else he wouldn’t have bothered asking, but here he felt he needed to.

“You spanner!” Lily laughed. “You don’t have to ask. I’m not going to break. If I were going to do that, I’d have done it years ago.”

If she was honest with herself, she needed this as much as he did, in this moment, at least. She’d deal with the unresolved feelings part later - right now, she just needed to be close to him, to breathe him in. They met each other halfway, right at the end of the bar top. He reached for her and she allowed herself to be pulled in, surrounded by the bigness of him. When she went willingly, matching the level of his touch without stiffening or flinching, he felt a twinge in his heart. Leaving one palm flat on her back, he brought the other up to cradle the back of her head, leaning his face down, breathing into her hair, gently swaying the hold.

He smelled familiar, like aftershave and cigarettes. His hands made her feel safe and a bit… well, her knees had gone a bit wobbly, that was certain. She found herself wishing he’d never let her go, and for a while, at least, she got her wish.

How long they stayed there, neither of them was sure. Then finally Jeremy huffed a laugh into Lily’s wild curls.

“What’s the joke, Clarkson?” she whispered.

“Guess.” he said, his breath warm in her hair.

“You’re leaving for Germany in a few hours and you’re not the least bit packed.” she said, a gentle tease in her voice.

“You’ve got it.” he replied.

“While I hate to be so sensible,” she sighed, “you’re going to have to let me go if you don’t want Wilman to castrate you for not making it for filming.”

“Mmmmph.” he huffed, taking one last breath of her, tightening his hold momentarily, then reluctantly letting her go. He notice her shiver a little at the loss of his warmth and it made him smile. He reached out, pushing a wayward curl away from her face, and said, “I’ll see you when I get back, yeah?”

She nodded in response. As he turned to leave, he noticed the book on the table next to her sunglasses. John Steinbeck’s _East of Eden_. He was fairly certain he had a copy of that somewhere.

She followed him wordlessly to the door. He turned there, looking at her leaning in the door frame for a moment, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. The last glimpse he got of her was from the bottom of the stairs as he left to face the real world. He looked back and could see her smiling contentedly from the upper door. He returned the smile and left.

When he was gone, Lily shut the top door, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor. She sat there in the hall, just thinking and feeling.

“Oh dear.” she said to herself. “Oh very dear.”

 

***

 

Germany was having the same spell of excellent weather they’d been having at home. The cars were incredible, the Nürburgring was exciting, everything was going beautifully. James and Richard hadn’t jumped on Jeremy about his visit with Lily, but it had registered with them immediately upon them all meeting up at the airport at the start of the trip that whatever had passed between Lily and Jeremy had the big man preoccupied. Not in the worrying way, but in the day-dreamy, far away sort of way, going about with a wistful gaze, being _nice_ to everyone.

Watching Jeremy whiz round the track with unabashed glee, Richard looked at James and said, “Something happened. I don’t know what, but he’s had _that_ look on since we got on the bloody plane.”

James thought for a moment and said, “I think he’s properly seen her for the first time.”

“Could you be any more cryptic, May? Really, I love it when you make no fucking sense.”

“Shut up, pillock. I just mean that he’s picking up on Lily's subtleties, the ones she doesn’t even seem to know she’s making. He’s fantastically late to the party, as usual, but I think he’s starting to piece things together for himself.”

Richard chewed his thumbnail. “They’re a right pair, aren’t they?”

The second night of the trip found the three of them in the hotel bar. Not unusual. James and Richard had gotten there to find Jeremy reading while he waited. Also not unusual. His choice of reading material, though, that was unusual. Generally he opted for something light when they traveled, something he could pick up and put down and not be bothered if he were interrupted.

“I’m surprised you packed _that_ , Clarkson.” mused James as he and Richard sat down. “Isn’t that a bit heavy for road reading?”

Jeremy shrugged, setting the book and his glasses aside. “Saw it on the shelf and thought, ‘Why not?’”

James knew better, though. “Lily’s been carting a copy of that around the last week at least.” he teased.

“Oh, alright,” Jeremy laughed, caught out, “I saw she was reading it and thought I might revisit it. I’d forgotten just how adept Steinbeck was at painting pictures with his words.”

Richard had picked up the copy of _East of Eden_ and was giving it a flick-through.

“No car chases in this, are there?”

“No, you pikey yob, there aren’t.” Jeremy groused as he retrieved the book, but he knew Richard was taking the piss, he could see the glint in his eye.

“How did you get on with her, then?” Richard asked.

Jeremy shrugged again and said, “Fine.”

Just ‘fine’, Clarkson?” asked James.

“Well, I got a pretty severe ticking off.”

“Which you earned!” said Richard vehemently.

“Which I earned.” Jeremy conceded. He looked at James. “You were right. She put me through the wringer but she forgave me in the end.”

“I said she would.” said James, “Just please assure me that you’ve learnt something from this and you’re not going to keep doing things that you now know will hurt her.”

“No.” said Jeremy, solidly. “She’s been hurt enough.”

James and Richard looked at him a bit quizzically.

“I… I learned something about her - about why she was so determined to help Em, and so upset afterwards.”

“Mate,” said Richard, “we think we know what you mean.”

“What - did she tell the two of you?”

“No,” said James, “we just sort of deduced.”

“Deduced what?”

“That…” James looked at Richard, who nodded for him to continue, “that maybe she’d had a similar experience to Emily at some point.”

Jeremy drew a hand down his face. “You deduced correctly. Only there’s one major difference.” He looked at them both, all seriousness. “Nobody was there to rescue her.”

 

***

 

The boys being gone was a mixed blessing. Lily was fine during the day, she worked non-stop. With them out of the way she had time to devote to Alison, helping to mold her into a proper replacement for Linda. There was the regular work of course, and with the added bonus of having the office to herself, Lily was finally able to get at and reorganize one or two odd corners and cabinets that had been bothering her. Yes, she was fine during the day. It was the nights she was worried about.

She left the office as late as possible in the evenings. She called university friends. She had Alison over. She hung out at her local, catching up with her neighbors and Annie and Michael, the owners. She even Skyped with her parents and her brother and his family in Australia - something she usually reserved for Christmas and birthdays. Anything to keep her mind off of Jeremy.

She tried to wear herself out so she’d sleep at night and not lie there wondering. Wondering if she could ever get this feeling back into its box. She berated herself every time she even had an inkling of a thought about it. It wasn’t right. It would spell the death of a very, _very_ good job. It just wasn’t done. You couldn’t become enamored of your bloody employer. Not if you wanted to stay employed. Besides, he couldn’t possibly want her, why would he? What possible reason was there for her to believe he thought of her with anything other than a normal amount of professional friendliness? Apart from that moment on Saturday. That one beautiful moment. _Dammit, woman, lock it down!_ It didn’t bear thinking about, so she needed not to think. She needed distractions.

Thankfully, towards the end of the week and just as she was running out of distraction techniques, two of her main distractions came home. James arrived first, and Lily coerced him into being her partner for her local’s daggers-hard pub quiz. They’d wiped the floor with the competition, at least until the sudden death round where they were pitted against each other. Lily came out on top in the end by virtue of the fact that for some reason she knew the average lifespan of a White’s tree frog in captivity.

James had feigned being deeply wounded at his defeat - for all of seventeen seconds - and then pulled Lily in for a congratulatory hug. “Well done, Lil, really. How did you even know that?”

“Dunno. Must have heard it at some point or other and it stuck around in my half a brain.”

“Clever girl.”

“May?”

“Yes?”

“Did I just get an actual hug from Captain ‘Don’t-Touch-Me’ Slow himself?”

“You did, yes.”

“I might have to declare a national holiday.”

“Shut up!”

“Nope. Sha’n’t.”

“Lily?

“Yes?”

“Never change.”

They’d split the quiz winnings 50/50 at Lily’s insistence and then had a few more drinks than would generally be acceptable on a weeknight. Their victory was still as sweet when they saw each other again at the office the next morning, even if their headaches weren’t.

A few more days brought Richard back to the city, and with him came Mindy and the girls. One of Richard’s friends from art school was opening an exhibition and they all went as a group. Ultimately, Izzy and Willow found Lily to be much more interesting than their parents, their Uncle James, or the art for that matter, so Lily spent the evening devising silly games to keep them occupied and sharing the sorts of secrets little girls keep. At the end of the evening, hugs and kisses lovingly doled out to the little ones and goodbyes said to Richard, Mindy, and James, Lily headed home trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow brought Jeremy back. It was unavoidable, and she just didn’t know what to do about it. It was going to be a long night.

 

***

 

After Germany, Jeremy had gone straight to Belgium to do some solo filming at Spa. The day he was scheduled to fly home to London he was on his way out of the hotel when he caught a familiar scent on the breeze. He knew it instantly, it was the floral component of Lily’s cassoulet - the fragrance that hit you just as the scent of lemons died away. He looked around for the source of the odor but all there was was a rather unassuming shrub next to the building. Still, it was blooming, so he stuck his nose into one of the clusters of tiny ivory flowers. Yes, this was definitely it. He had no idea what it was, though he’d seen this type of shrub before. He knew who would know, though. He snapped a photo and sent it to James.

 

 

> 1:35  May, what is this?
> 
> 1:36  It's a shrub, you utter spanner.
> 
> 1:36  Yes, thank you for that, what SORT of shrub, you insufferable pedant.
> 
> 1:37   _Pittosporum tobira_. Sometimes known as ‘mock orange’. Why the sudden interest in botany?
> 
> 1:38  No reason. It smelled familiar and I didn’t know what it was. How do YOU know anyway?
> 
> 1:40  Because I have the variegated variety in my back garden, don’t I? Are you coming back tonight?
> 
> 1:40  Yes.
> 
> 1:40  See you tomorrow then.
> 
> 1:41  See you.

 

***

 

Lily had been away from her desk when Jeremy got in the morning after he got back from Belgium. She came in a few minutes later, arms full of files, but as he stood up and started out towards her desk a tall, vaguely familiar man entered the office and said,

“Oi! Lily!”

Jeremy stayed in his office, just beyond the door and out of sight, and watched as Lily’s face broke into an enormous grin.

“Mark?”

“How’s my girl, then?”

Jeremy recognized him now. Mark Hendrickson, unrepentantly loud Scotsman - he’d been on their sound crew when Lily had first started working with them. About a year later the BBC had transferred him to Liverpool, and that was the last Jeremy had seen of him. He watched as Mark and Lily shared a hug, Mark kissing her so closely to her mouth it made Jeremy’s fists flex for a moment involuntarily.

“What are you doing here? Did they transfer you back?” Lily asked.

“Nah, ‘s my brother’s weddin’ tomorrow. Only in town for the weekend.”

“Eric’s getting married?!”

“To Rebecca, in’t he? Can’t believe it really, he’s such a twatface.” Mark rolled his eyes and grinned.

Lily giggled, “Well, she’s a piece of work. The deserve each other.”

“Look,” Mark said, leaning on Lily’s desk and crossing his arms, “I know it’s short notice, but I haven’t got a plus-one fer it - would ye like to come with me?”

“Much as I’d like to come along to the circus,” Lily said, “Clarkson and I have the annual Penguin-Random House conference tomorrow. I can’t, sorry.”

“Ah, well,” Mark said, shrugging, “Can’t be helped. Yer lookin’ good, Lil. Guess these bastards are treatin’ ye right.” He turned to go. “I’ll see ye, Lil.”

“See you.”

Lily watched him leave. As she turned back to her files she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Jeremy was leaning in the doorway to his office, all legs and shoulders and jaw. Lily jumped.

“Geezus, Jez!” she said, “You startled me! I didn’t know you were in yet.”

“That was Mark Hendrickson, wasn’t it.” he asked, more coldly than he’d intended.

“...Yes.” Lily turned back to her work, unnerved by the glint in Jeremy’s eyes which was dark and vaguely dangerous. He saw her shrink and suddenly felt like twelve kinds of bastard.

“I didn’t know the two of you were… involved.” he said, much more gently, as he moved to sit on the edge of Lily’s desk.

“Well,” she said, busying herself with her piles of paper, “we didn’t go out of our way to advertise it. Besides, it was a very long time ago. And it would never have lasted even if he hadn’t been shifted up to Liverpool. He was always a bit… much… for me.”

There went Jeremy’s fists again. Lily caught them flexing and quickly continued, “It was never ill-intentioned. He never purposefully hurt me. He was just very… it was…” she trailed off.

“A bit much.” Jeremy finished for her, repeating her initial statement.

“Yes.” she said, finally looking up at him.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes registering that he understood what she was trying to communicate. “Come on, we’d better get to working on that rubbish for tomorrow.”

 

***

 

Lily hadn’t been prepared for Mark to show up out of the blue, and she definitely hadn’t been prepared for Jeremy’s reaction to Mark showing up out of the blue. His initial flash of anger had frightened her somewhat, but Jeremy clearly noticed that and immediately tempered his tone. The rest of the day he’d been almost overly attentive. Lily wondered if that was how it was going to be from now on - now that he knew her secret, he was going to treat her like glass for fear of breaking her. Maybe it was for the best. If he kept it up she’d definitely get annoyed, and if she was annoyed she’d be better able to mask or even repress all the things she was feeling. And it _was_ annoying, his sudden cloying, overcompensating sweetness. She’d already proved her resilience, hadn't she? She was still here. Living was her act of rebellion. She shook her head. There was no good solution to any of this. She’d just have to wait it out and see what transpired. Maybe the conference tomorrow was exactly what the two of them needed to get some sense of normalcy back. She sighed as she switched off her monitor and threw her bag over her shoulder.

“Pssst, Lil!” It was Richard, bright eyed and excitable. “Pub?”

“Not tonight, Hamster. Clarkson and I have Penguin-Random House tomorrow.”

“Pleeeeease?”

“Next time, yeah?” Lily was treated to a full-blown Hammond pout, which almost worked, but she was tired and confused and her fatigue won out. “Next time, I promise.”

Richard relented. “Okay. Night, then.”

She gave him a quick smile and headed out.

James came out of his office putting on his coat. “Is she not coming, then?”

“Nope.”

“No?” Jeremy this time, mirroring James’ actions as he came out his own office door.

“No.” Richard repeated.

“...Oh.” Jeremy looked positively put out.

“Probably got tired of being babied.” James said.

“I was NOT babying her!” Jeremy shot back.

Richard retorted, “You were! You treated her like very expensive porcelain all day!”

“Hammond’s right.” said James. “She’s a grown woman, Clarkson, and we all know she didn’t get there by being mollycoddled. I know you’re feeling protective, we all are, but you can’t start treating her with kid gloves now. She’s too strong for that, it’ll drive her mad!”

“Or worse,” added Richard, “drive her away.”

“What in God’s name do you expect me to do!” Jeremy snapped. “She’s been horribly, irreparably wronged! It’s about time someone showed her some care!”

James hollered, “You can’t define the person by the trauma, Clarkson! Defining Lily by her rape is like defining Hammond by his accident in that fucking Vampire car!”

The three of them stopped cold for a second. James had labeled it, something they had yet to do on purpose because it gave the whole thing so much more gravity than any of them had felt entirely comfortable with, but there it was.

James broke the silence quietly. “There so much more to her than that, Clarkson, and you know it.” James placed a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “Now come on. Let’s get a pint and sort you out properly. I can tell there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Richard nodded in agreement, chewing his lip. He turned and led the way out of the office, the other two following close behind.

 

***

 

Firmly ensconced in the farthest back booth in the pub, pints doled out, the three of them regrouped.

“Alright, Clarkson, out with it.” said James, though not unkindly.

“Out with what?”

Richard said, “You’ve been on another planet since we were in Germany, Jez. Something’s churning around in that fat head of yours.”

Jeremy sighed and drew a hand down his face. “Alright, alright. Here it is.” He took a breath and picked up a beer mat, tapping it on the table top. “I think… I think I might be slightly completely taken with her.”

“I knew it!” Richard shouted, throwing his arms up in victory, grinning like a madman. “I fucking knew it! You’re well and properly smitten, Clarkson, admit it!” He punctuated the last sentence with jabs of his index finger towards Jeremy.

“Alright, Hammond,” James chuckled, “enough showboating. Surely you can see the man’s having an argument with himself about it.”

Richard settled back into his seat, still smiling, though sympathetically now. “I do, I promise. I know it’s delicate, really.”

“What brought this on, anyway? A month ago you weren’t giving a second thought to sending her out for flowers for your latest conquests.” James said, taking a slow pull of his pint.

Jeremy flushed a bit at this, but he knew James was right.

“After what she did for Em, I just got thinking about all the things she’s done over the years - seen and unseen. How much she’s invested in us - in _me_. The more I thought back the more it was clear that she’d always put more effort into me than either of you. Of course,” Jeremy chuckled, “it’s probably mostly because I’m much more of a problem than the two of you put together.”

Richard and James laughed at that and clinked glasses with each other for effect.

Jeremy continued, “The only thing that worries me is that apart from the professional overtures, she’s never given any obvious indication in the slightest that she might even be remotely interested. Well, apart from a moment that Saturday we left for Germany.”

“This moment,” asked Richard teasingly, “it didn’t have anything to do with how utterly _wistful_ and bloody _sanguine_ you were while we were in Germany, did it?”

“Might have done.” Jeremy blustered.

“Jez,” said Richard, shaking his head fondly, “she’s already yours, mate.”

“What?"

“I’m pretty sure she has been for years, really. James and I have been noticing little things the last couple of months - things you wouldn’t have because you never bothered to look. Paired with what happened with Emily, it’s become pretty obvious to us at least that she harbors some sort of attachment to you. She’s just never said. It’s not like you made it easy to find an opening, you know.” Richard shot Jeremy a look that said _You always had your John Thomas in the honeypot_ and Jeremy sighed.

“What the hell am I going to do?”

James drained the last of his pint and set his glass down. “You’re going to stop treating her like a museum piece for a start, and go back to treating her like Lily.”

“And you’re just going to have to tell her, mate, because she’ll never own up to it on her own.” Richard said. “You’ll find a way.”

 

***

 

The very first thing Lily did when Jeremy joined her at Earl’s Court the next morning was shove an enormous cup of coffee into his hands. The man was insufferable uncaffeinated, and she didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with any potential tantrums. As they walked towards the room where his first panel was to be they went over the schedule for the day. He was booked back-to-back until lunch on panels with one or two people Lily knew he considered to fall into the categories of socialists, beardy-weirdy environmentalists, and in one case in particular, general idiots, but the overwhelming majority of people he was scheduled to present with were either known to him to some degree or people of whom he held a decent opinion at least. She hoped he could keep himself in check if the need arose.

The morning went quickly with no more than ten minutes between panels - just long enough to freshen up his coffee and water and twice to shove an orange club biscuit down his neck to keep him going. By the time lunch rolled around  the poor man looked a bit rough in spite of himself.

“Come on, Clarkson,” Lily said encouragingly as she handed him yet another bottle of water, “there’s got to be a ham sandwich with your name on it around here somewhere!”

Jeremy obediently followed Lily to the lounge set aside for panelists and presenters where she set him up on a sofa and disappeared to find him something to eat. He pulled out his phone and was half-heartedly attending to some emails when a large pair of hands clasped his shoulders and a familiar voice boomed,

“All work and no play makes Jeremy a dull boy.”

“Fry!” Jeremy cried gleefully.

“Hello, old boy, you’re looking well.” Stephen took up residence on the sofa opposite Jeremy with a sigh. “How do they keep dragging us into these things year after year?”

“I don’t know about you,” Jeremy said conspiratorially, “but I generally get an email to the tune of ‘If you want us to keep publishing your toss you’ll show up and you’ll like it’.”

They were laughing when Lily returned with a couple of plates. Jeremy reached for the nearest one to help her out as Stephen bellowed,

“Lily Ophelia Mason, are you _still_ nursemaiding this pompous arse?”

“Nobody else will take him!” Lily grinned.

Jeremy faked a huff and said “Better a pompous arse than a holier-than-thou pseudo-intellectual.”

“Steady on there, Clarkson, or you’ll huff and you’ll puff and you’ll blow the conference centre down.”

While Jeremy pretended to be wounded Stephen relieved Lily of the second plate and kissed her on the cheek in greeting. Rather than settling down herself, Lily asked,

“Would you like anything, Stephen?”

“No, no, no, dear, don’t trouble yourself. I’ve got a lackey on that already. Please, sit down.”

Lily did as she was told, pulling out her laptop and notebook to get on with some work while she had a chance. She listened as Stephen and Jeremy caught up with each other, discussing everything from filming schedules to politics to James May’s cat. At one point Stephen’s aforementioned lackey - one assigned for the day by the conference, not a personal one, Lily noticed - dropped off some lunch for him, as well as a plate of biscuits. She smiled as the pair of them descended upon the plate of biscuits with barely contained glee. Stephen was reaching for the lone jam cream on the plate when Jeremy said,

“Fry, you’ll leave that one right where it is if you don’t want to conduct your afternoon panels with a biro firmly lodged between your metacarpals.”

Stephen looked at him in puzzlement and Lily took the opportunity to click her pen menacingly in Stephen’s direction, slip in, nab the jam cream with a Cheshire Cat grin plastered to her face and chirp, “Thank you!”

Stephen chuckled at this, watching as Jeremy smiled at Lily with more than his usual fondness. As Jeremy turned back to him, Stephen raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in Lily’s direction. Jeremy tilted an eyebrow back. One of the event staff came over just then and called Lily away to discuss some change to the schedule for the afternoon. Left alone, Stephen said to Jeremy,

“Anything happening there in particular, Clarkson?”

“Might be.” responded Jeremy noncommittally.

“Some would say ‘about time’.”

“Why would they say that exactly?” Jeremy asked, reaching for another biscuit.

“Oh, no reason, no reason.” Stephen replied, a twinkle in his eye.

“Something in your eye, Fry?”

“Something on your mind, Clarkson?”

Jeremy cast a glance at Lily, watching her tuck a curl behind her ear as she looked at something on a clipboard with the lady from the event staff. He scratched his head and looked back at Stephen, who looked at him sympathetically.

“It’s a bit difficult.” Jeremy said.

“She’s got a hidden sadness about her, that one.” Stephen said sagely.

Jeremy gaped at him for a moment and said, “How?! How do you see these things, I’d like to know?!?”

“Intuition.” Stephen said simply, crunching on a bourbon. “Intuition, observation, and a certain knack for recognizing the signs in others when you've seen them in yourself. I’ve no idea what the sadness is, mind, or what it stems from, but it’s there if you know how to look for it.”

Jeremy was looking at Lily again. “I didn’t see it until it came crashing down on me like a hail of grapeshot.”

Stephen considered the man before him. They’d been friends for quite a long time, and Stephen knew that underneath the bluster and bumptiousness was an unparalleled sensitivity and capacity for love. He smiled affectionately.

“You just have to pay attention. She’ll show you how to love her if you just look for the signs.”

Jeremy brought his gaze back to Stephen and they considered each other for a long moment. Stephen’s lackey-for-the-day then returned to collect him and shepherd him onto the next thing.

“I’ll see you at five o’clock, old boy.” said Stephen, standing up to leave.

“Looking forward to it.” said Jeremy

 

***

 

The five o’clock panel had been a riot and a half. The Penguin-Random House powers-that-be had put together a collection of their authors who fed off each other’s energy and wit, knowing full well it would be the highlight of the day. Lily couldn’t remember a time when she’d laughed as long or as hard. It was a fantastic way to end an otherwise exhausting and rather tedious day. Once they had officially finished, Jeremy was called away to speak to some newspaper people which left Lily to collect his things in preparation for their departure. As she was stowing some papers away, Stephen approached and sat down next to her.

“How are you, m’dear? Those three idiots treating you well?”

Lily had met Stephen shortly after she started working for Jeremy, James, and Richard. She saw him a few times a year at events like this one and he’d always been pleasant and willing to converse. She smiled. “They’re as good as they know how to be, bless them.”

“You willfully ignored the part of that question about _you_ , dear.”

She thought back to one of the first conversations she’d ever had with Stephen. It had been on the subject of middle names. Lily had been loathe to own up to her own, as she rather detested it, but Stephen had this uncanny ability to draw things out of people in the kindest and most interested way. She could still remember the full blown belly laugh she’d received. ‘ _I mean, OPHELIA?! My mother was off her chump!_ ’ He had made sure to always greet her by her full name after that, and she found she really didn’t mind. She smiled and sat down next to him, leaning one arm on the back of the chair and resting her head on it.

“I’ve been better.” she said honestly.

“I thought that might be the case.” Stephen said kindly. “Anything I can do to help?”

Lily shrugged and said, “‘This, too, shall pass.’ How are _you_?”

Sensing her wish to move the conversation on to something else, Stephen thought up the funniest story he could from the season of QI he’d just finished filming. By the time he got through it he and Lily were both in a complete fit of the giggles. Jeremy sauntered over, pleased to see the two of them enjoying each other’s company. He put his hands on Lily’s shoulders, letting his thumb wander up the gentle slope of her neck for a moment and said,

“Alright, you two reprobates, what’s the joke?”

Lily, tears streaming down her face she was laughing so hard, leaned back into Jeremy, looked up at him, and managed to squeak out, “Bill Bailey!” before she collapsed back into giggling.

Laughing himself now, Jeremy looked at Stephen and said, “Fry, I do believe you’ve broken my assistant!”

By this time the clean up crew were not-so-subtly tidying up around the three of them, so they did their best to collect their things and head out to the corridor with as much dignity as they could muster around the laughter. Once out of the room, Stephen was about to issue an invitation to the pair of them to join him at the pub, but he held it back as Jeremy turned to Lily and asked,

“Did you drive in?”

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “You can’t park anywhere near this place, and 'paid lackeys do not reserved parking merit'.”

“Can I run you home, then?”

“Thanks.”

Stephen smiled, “Excellent. That’s you two sorted.”

Jeremy gave him a sheepish look and said, “I’ll give you a call next week, Fry. We’ll sort calendars and find an evening.”

“All in good time, old boy, all in good time.”

The two shared a manly hug, and upon releasing Jeremy, Stephen reached for Lily, who went willingly.

“See you next year, I guess.” she said with a grin.

Stephen squeezed her a little tighter and said “Oh, I do hope it’s sooner than that, dear!”

They said their goodbyes and Stephen watched them walk towards the car park, Jeremy’s hand on the back of Lily’s neck, Lily close to his side.

 

***

 

The drive back to Islington was quiet. Lily stared out the window of the Mercedes and watched the city go by, wondering, for the umpteenth time in recent memory, just what to do about everything. Halfway there, they were stopped at a light and Lily caught Jeremy looking at her out of the corner of her eye. It was a thoughtful look and it made her heart swell. He was still looking at her when the lights changed.

“Your light’s gone green.”

“Shit.” He jostled the Merc into gear and pulled away. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Lily thought for a moment and decided for once in her life to be impulsive. “I’m dying for a drink. I knew I would be. I put a viognier in this morning to chill.”

“I thought you were a pinot grigio girl.”

“I am, but I like a viognier when I can get a decent one. D’you want to come up when we get back to mine? You probably need a drink even more than I do.” Her voice hitched  as she said it and she cursed herself inwardly.

Jeremy considered the offer momentarily and, deciding it was as close to an overture as he was going to get, said, “I’d like that.”

Lily lapsed back into silence the rest of the drive.

 

***

 

Curled up in the corner of the L-bend of her sofa, Lily contemplated the man to her right. Like her, he had shed his blazer and shoes upon entering the flat in the name of comfort. He’d slipped out of his tie as well and rolled up his sleeves while Lily poured out the wine. They had been sat in silence for a good ten minutes at this point, too exhausted by the events of the day to bother with small talk. In her periphery, Lily saw Jeremy drain his glass. He reached for the bottle on the coffee table and waved it in her direction. Lily smiled and held out her glass to be refilled. Hers taken care of, Jeremy filled his own glass and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for your life.”

“I need your help.”

“You usually do.” Lily teased. “What with?”

Jeremy smiled and turned himself so that he was mostly facing Lily on the sofa. “I know I’m not allowed to send you out for flowers any more, but I’ve met someone and I can’t quite figure her out.”

Lily, who was mid-drink when this statement was uttered, inhaled and began to cough violently. _Shit! Have I really misread this entire situation that badly? Oh, well done, Lily, you complete and utter MORON!_ She was still coughing and Jeremy said,

“Steady on, Lil, breathe. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” she responded, trying valiantly to regain her composure and her breath, “wrong pipe.” She thumped her chest a few times and cleared her throat. Hiding her face as best she could behind her wine glass, she said, “Go on then, tell me about her.”

Jeremy took a drink and considered his words. He desperately needed not to cock this up. He began, “I promise it’s not a fly-by-night, this one. She deserves to be wooed properly. I’ve known her quite a while, actually.”

He could see Lily searching her memory banks, trying to hit on who this woman could possibly be. He needed to be more specific.

“She’s put up with my nonsense for years and never complained. She’s managed to keep me from hanging myself probably more than I’m even aware. You don’t want to cross her, oh no, she can be incredibly fierce. And she doesn’t forgive easily, but once she does, she forgives completely. She puts so much care into everything she touches. She gives without expecting anything in return. She’s got a wild, indomitable spirit. She reads ponderous books by dead American authors and without even trying she’s got me completely captivated.”

He looked at Lily curled up to his left, clutching her glass, staring straight ahead, eyes wide as could be.

“What I’m trying to say, Lily, is if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

No movement from Lily. Jeremy could hardly tell if she was even breathing. He put his glass down on the coffee table and stood up, leaning over and placing a kiss on the top of Lily’s head.

“Think about it.” he whispered, and moved towards the door. Ears straining lest he should miss any sound she made before he left, he slipped into his shoes and grabbed his jacket. In an ironic turn of the tables, as soon as he turned the handle on the door, he heard Lily call his name. He smiled in relief, closed the door, and returned to the edge of the living room. She was still valiantly staring at the contents of her wine glass, but her voice rang clear.

“I’ve thought.”

Jeremy crossed the room, sitting down next to her and taking her glass, setting it down next to his on the table. He reached for her and she buried her face in his chest, letting out a breath that sounded as though she’d been holding it since she had realized, halfway through his monologue, that he was talking about _her_. After a minute of holding her, Jeremy nudged the top of her head with his, bringing her face up so he could look into her eyes. He leaned his head down so they rested forehead to forehead, nose to nose, just for a moment, and then, ever so gently, he kissed her. She kissed back, tentatively at first, but then with growing sweetness and a hint of promise. He held on for dear life.

 

***

 

Jeremy awoke to a calendar reminder on his phone having a fit of apoplexy. He swatted at the phone, eyes still closed, until he heard it fall to the floor. He had grudgingly opened his eyes and sat up to retrieve it when it dawned upon him that he wasn’t at home. A smile slowly spread across his face as he heard sounds coming from the kitchen. He put on what he could find of his clothes and wandered in the direction of the noise. Coming to the great room he leaned on the bartop, taking in the view. Lily was resplendent and glowing in the sunlight coming in the windows. She pushed a mug across to him and quietly said, “Good morning.” a sly smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

Jeremy took a pull from the mug in an attempt to mask the inevitable morning breath and then leaned across and kissed Lily deeply. She hummed into the kiss and he felt the vibrations trail down the length of his body.

“I’m meant to be having lunch with Jimmy Carr in two hours.” he said, a bit petulantly.

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” replied Lily, grinning. “Are you coming back afterwards?”

“Do you want me to?” He knew full well it was a loaded question.

“Yes, please.”

“Then yes.”

Lily rifled around momentarily in a kitchen drawer. Finding what she was looking for, she set it down on the bar top next to Jeremy.

“You’d better have this, then.”

Jeremy picked up the key. “Oh, really?”

“Mmmh.” Lily intoned through a mouthful of coffee. “I’m not going to just sit here and pine in your absence, you know. I’m supposed to help a girlfriend buy a dress today to wear to her sister-in-law’s wedding. It’s important stuff. I could be gone for _weeks_!” She rolled her eyes and they laughed.

Jeremy set his now empty mug down and said, “I’d better get a move on. And I’m going to need _that_.” He looked pointedly at Lily who was wearing his shirt from the night before.

“What, this?” Lily teased, smoothing down the front of the shirt with her hands.

“Yes, that.”

“You’d better come and get it, then.”

Jeremy rounded the bar top into the kitchen proper and pulled Lily in for another kiss, undoing the buttons on the shirt and sliding it off her shoulders before pulling back and finding Lily as God intended her, wearing nothing but a smile. As he put the shirt back on himself he huffed out,

“Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

 

***

 

After running home for a shower and a change of clothes, and then a thoroughly enjoyable lunch, Jeremy found himself moving like a hurricane through the city. He’d had an idea - the sort of Clarkson idea that wouldn’t let him rest until it was executed to a ‘T’. Some of the pieces took some finding  - and a call to James and some pruning shears when the traditional sources proved unfruitful - but eventually he had his finished product. He just hoped that it was enough, that it was _right_.

Lily was still out when he got back to her flat so he set up his surprise and settled in to wait. It wasn’t long before he heard her key turn in the door.

She dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes with a thump, slumping into the living room and flopping down next to him on the sofa.

“Long day?” he asked, pulling her in so she was snuggled halfway across his lap.

“Endlessly.” she groaned. “There is nothing that brings out the most tiresome qualities in a woman so much as when she tries on dresses. I wanted to murder her about sixteen times today.”

Jeremy kissed her forehead sympathetically. “Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

He felt her following him towards the kitchen until he didn’t any more, and he knew she’d found it. He watched her as she stared, then reached out to touch the flowers on her dining table. In a vase made of aqua colored glass he’d put lemon blossoms, Queen Anne’s Lace, yellow button mums, ivory ranunculus, and the last of the blooming pittosporum from James’ back garden. It was equal parts gentle and wild, and the fragrance was positively heady. Lily picked up the note that was leaning up against the vase and felt Jeremy come to hug her from behind as she read it. When she put the note down, he kissed her head and said, “Did I do good?”

She turned in his arms and placed her palms flat on his chest, meeting his gaze. “You did better than good.”

The note read:

 

 

> _“I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible.”_
> 
> _-John Steinbeck, East of Eden_

 

 


End file.
